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Diary of a Novice Triathlete – Day Thirty Three

A very welcome side effect of the Olympics has been a growing distrust, bordering on dislike of what used to the beautiful game. When you see sportsmen and women without the posturing, the vanity and the cheating, it just feels so much closer to the reason humans pursue athletic endeavour in the first place.

I’m hoping the Olympics have ended my love affair with football, in all honesty. I doubt it, football will always be the mistress I’d increasingly like to hide away.

Perhaps, with each stroke, my swim might distance me further from football, from my childhood, from the utter mediocrity that pervades the British football industry. I can only hope.

Diary of a Novice Triathlete – Day Nineteen

Straddlers. That’s what they call us. The generation of people who grew up before the internet and will die after.

We’re the generation of people who thought the ZX81 bordered on witchcraft. The generation who giggled enthusiastically while, undercover, switched on the red glowing digital numbers of their fathers’ watches.

Diary of a Novice Triathlete – Day Twenty Eight

I’m just over a week away from the most worrying entry into water since the Israelites walked across the bed of the Red Sea. If I had a pound for every time I was told: “Don’t worry, wetsuits are really buoyant, you’ll be fine”, I’d have enough to ask someone whether that comma was in the right place.

Diary of a Novice Triathlete – Day Seven

Yes, I did put friend in inverted commas. I am strongly of the view that a friend should tell you everything – even the things you don’t want to hear. I don’t want to hear I’ve got a paunch – it robs me of my masculinity, the mirage that I’m still attractive to the to the opposite sex and sense of self-worth.